


We Match

by JanecShannon



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Amusing, Gen, Lestrade films it, Loopy!Sherlock, Sherlock is adorable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-26 13:34:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/966537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JanecShannon/pseuds/JanecShannon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is shot in the shoulder while on a case with John. When they get to the hospital, Sherlock is given painkillers and becomes amusingly loopy. Loopy!Sherlock tells everyone how happy he is that he now has a wound that matches John's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Match

**Author's Note:**

> For this prompt on the meme:  
> http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/21697.html?thread=128110273#t128110273

"John. John. John. John. Jo-"

_Really,_ John thinks, _it should be no surprised that he acts like a child._ Still, though, Sherlock has been murmuring his name on and off for the last ten minutes so it’s no surprise his voice is a little snappish when he finally answers, "What, Sherlock? What?"

"John!" Sherlock's voice is startled, like he suddenly realized John was there. "We match. Do you see?" the great, bloody idiot (who went and got himself _shot_ ) then proceeded to try to pull the hospital gown down with his good hand. 

John grabs his wrist gently to pull it away, a sudden wave of loss tightening in his chest. "Yes, Sherlock. Yes, we do," he rasps and he’s very proud that his voice doesn’t tremble. 

After the infection set it, multiple surgeries, and knowing that any moment the other man could take a turn for the worst (had done already), it finally finally _finally_ looks like they’re in the clear and John is so relieved and bone-achingly tired. 

They match a bit too much for his comfort. 

~*~

“Technically John’s is on the left, while mine – as you know—is on the right, but as he is left handed and I am right handed… Well, it still fits, you see?”

“Oh, of course.”

Sherlock is still very out of it so he doesn’t quite catch the sarcasm in Lestrade’s voice. “And if you calculate the relative position of the entry point… _My_ wound is technically four millimeters higher and three millimeters to the left of John’s. This is, of course, taking into account the differing width of our shoulders and the significant height difference. 

“Is that so?”

“Oh, yes. And there is, of course the _angle_. Did I tell you about the angle, Lestrade?”

“No, Sherlock, I do not believe you have.”

“John was shot at an angle of approximately 43.9 degrees. Due to the shooter’s height and inability to hold a gun properly, I was shot at 46.2 degrees. That’s mere 2.3 degrees, Lestrade. Two point three degrees! The changes of our wounds being so close is astronomical!”

“Only you could use a term like _astronomical_ while high as the moon,” Lestrade grumbled good naturedly. 

“John taught me about astronomics. The moon orbits the earth, the earth orbits the sun. Oh, John!” Sherlock turned to the man sitting on the other side of the bed. “Did you see? We match!”

Lestrade clicked a button on his phone to stop the recording and another one to save the video. 

~*~

“John has a wound almost exactly like this.”

“That’s nice, Mr. Holmes,” the nurse answers blandly. She now know a good deal about John Watson’s wound, no matter that she has never met him (today is her first day and she has apparently come during the rare times other family members have forced him home). She has been warned by the other nurses to pretend John Watson is God’s gift to mankind, however. Apparently Mr. Holmes considers it to be verging on criminal to think John is anything less than wonderful.

“Have I told you about John, Misty?”

“Yes, Mr. Holmes. John spits rainbows and shits sunshine,” she continues in her utterly bland tone but is surprised when that actually manages to shut the man up. Misty risks a glance at his face and finds a thoughtful expression there. 

“While I cannot confirm that John spits rainbows, I have examined his saliva and excrement quite thoroughly and can assure you that neither is reminiscent of rainbows or sunshine. While, admittedly, it wasn’t what I was looking for at the time, that doesn’t sound like something I would have missed.” It’s all Misty can do not to laugh at the man, who is absolutely serious as he says this. “I find it highly unlikely John spits rainbows but I can see why you might think that. John can do some rather surprising things. I think if anyone were capable of what you say, it would be John. John!”

Misty looks at the man who has just walked through the door, she can’t help herself when she asks, “Mr. Watson, were you aware that Mr. Holmes has a wound very similar to yours?”

~*~

The sound of chemistry equipment hitting the wall and a shout of frustration come from the kitchen. This is the third time Sherlock has had to retry this experiment. Every time, he has added more than the single drop of whatever chemical he needs to. 

This time, however, he storms out to the sitting room and kneels in front of John’s chair. He grabs the doctor’s left hand and positions it so it is held out flat then holds his right hand in the same position next to it. 

Nerve damage causes tiny tremors to shake both hands. 

“We match,” John tells him sadly. 

“We match,” Sherlock answers, like it is his only consolation.


End file.
